


Away From Home

by Cat2000



Category: Dune Series - Frank Herbert
Genre: Gen, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27357055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat2000/pseuds/Cat2000
Summary: Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from the fandom Dune and I’m not making any money from this ficSummary: Leto takes Duncan in hand after he gets drunk
Kudos: 11





	Away From Home

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for the first Dune book; AU; references to violence

He didn’t want to have to deal with this next problem. It was exhausting enough to concern himself with ruling and with the knowledge that there was a traitor in his household. He knew that it wasn’t who they were forcing suspicion on, but Thufir had been so set on believing that it was the woman he loved, Leto had allowed himself to be convinced that acting like he suspected Jessica was the best course of action.

This wasn’t the only time he’d second guessed his decision to keep the truth hidden. He’d seen the look on Jessica’s face when he spoke coldly to her and treated her with suspicion. And yet again, he found himself wondering if he’d truly made the right decision in letting the rest of his people believe he suspected his lady.

With that thought in mind, Leto had sent for Duncan. Now, he paced up and down in his office, allowing himself those few moments to truly show his restlessness. Before he had to put on his mask that said, _Everything is fine. Coming to Arrakis was the correct choice. The_ only _choice._ Still, the only choice or not, he knew his restlessness was shared by the rest of his men. They’d been uprooted from their home. The only place they’d ever known. And for men like Duncan Idaho, that restlessness had resulted in him feeling even more displaced; torn between his duty to the Fremen and his loyalty to his Duke.

It didn’t excuse his actions, but it made them more understandable.

The soft, almost hesitant knock on his door brought Leto out of his thoughts. He turned fully to face the door and called, “Come in.”

The door was opened and Duncan glided in. He let the door close behind him and faced the Duke, arms at his sides and body stood at attention. “You wanted to see me, Sire?” His voice was low and respectful.

Leto nodded and allowed himself to study Duncan, taking in the man’s stance; even ‘at rest’, his man was ever watchful. Ever on his guard. “You took too much of the spice beer last night.”

Duncan winced. The movement was slight, but still obvious to Leto’s gaze. He lowered his head; addressed his words to the ground. “I apologise, Sire. And to the Lady Jessica as well.”

“Have you given her the apology in person?”

“No, Sire.” Duncan hesitated. “I know she’s not the traitor. Forgive me for speaking out of turn, Sire, but although she hid it quickly, I could see my thoughtless words hurt her.” He breathed in deep, pain flashing across his face. It was clear the memory of his own words hurt him as much as they’d hurt Jessica. He continued speaking, his voice carrying that hurt tone. “I would have apologised to the Lady Jessica directly, but I needed to tell you first. I won’t watch her movements any longer. I _know_ she’s not a traitor or a spy. And I won’t hurt her by pretending I believe that.”

“I don’t believe it either.” The words were pulled out of Leto without any conscious thought.

Duncan’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Then why have me follow her? Why act to all around as if you suspect her?” He paused and then said, in a much lower voice, “I apologise for questioning you, Sire.”

Leto shook his head and held up a hand to forestall any further attempts at apologies. “You have every right to question me. I trust you as much as I trust my lady, Duncan. So I will tell you the truth and explain the reasoning behind my actions.” He paused, but when there was no response from the other man, he carried on speaking. “The Harkonnens are the ones responsible for me needing to pretend that I believe she’s a traitor.”

“But _Thufir_ truly believes that she’s a traitor,” Duncan said.

“Yes. Which is what I believe the Harkonnens were trying to accomplish. To create a divide between us.”

“But isn’t Thufir just going to focus on the Lady Jessica, rather than trying to find the _real_ traitor?” Duncan frowned. “Sire, I don’t mean to question your decisions or your actions, but even _pretending_ to distrust the Lady Jessica will cause problems. Because all of your men will believe it and treat her the same way I did.” He paused. “And they won’t realise the truth the same way I did.”

“You’re right.” Leto sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve been second guessing my decision.” He could admit that uncertainty to Duncan; to a man he considered a close friend and someone he trusted above many others. “But even if you’re right, it doesn’t change what you did. You took too much spice beer and while things didn’t go as badly as they _could_ have gone, you might have let something slip when you lost that much control.”

“I understand, Sire.” Duncan’s hands went to the belt at his waist and he removed it, then held it out to Leto.

Leto took the belt from Duncan and doubled it over. He watched as the other man walked over to the wall and rested his hands against the surface. He shifted slightly, arching his back and sticking his bottom out.

Walking to Duncan’s side, Leto placed his hand on his friend’s back and then brought the belt down against Duncan’s bottom with a dull thwap.

A sharp intake of breath was the only reaction Duncan gave. He let his forehead rest against the wall as Leto brought the belt down a second and then a third time, keeping his hand resting on Duncan’s back to keep the other man in place as he continued bringing the belt down in solid stripes that made the other man shift in place.

Despite the shifting, Duncan didn’t try to block or get away from the stripes. He kept his hands in place and his bottom sticking out, but as the belt continued to fall, he began to let out little whimpering whines and cries.

Leto didn’t see the need to lecture or scold through the course of the strapping. It was clear Duncan understood what he’d done wrong and didn’t need Leto to reiterate it. No. What he needed right now was to be held accountable for the poor decision he’d made. He needed to be punished, so that he could continue on with a head and heart clear of the weight of guilt.

This was a punishment that Leto had given Duncan several times in the past. There was an understanding between them that meant they didn’t need to talk about it. When both of them agreed that a punishment was deserved, there was no need for discussion or argument. The only stipulation was that Duncan would receive his punishment in private.

And that was something Leto fully agreed with.

For the next several moments, the only sounds that filled the room was the belt landing against Duncan’s backside, down to mid-thigh, and the man’s responses, rising in pitch as the belting continued. He wasn’t especially loud and Leto knew the sound wouldn’t carry outside the room, but the responses made it clear that Leto was getting through to the other man.

By the time Leto paused, Duncan’s whole body was heaving and trembling. But he turned his face towards Leto, allowing him to see the tears staining his cheeks, and asked softly, “How many more?”

It was a valid question. When Duncan had done something that really disappointed Leto, after the belting, Leto would give the other man a set number of strokes on the bare. The extra punishment was always hard on both of them, but it was a good way of enforcing the punishment and making it clear just how seriously Leto took situations.

“Five,” Leto replied.

“Twenty.”

Raising his eyebrows, Leto looked into his friend’s eyes.

Wiping at the tears on his face, Duncan looked away and muttered, “You didn’t see her face. Twenty is lenient.”

The note of guilt in Duncan’s voice made Leto wince, as it echoed his own. He nodded and stepped back to give Duncan room.

Stepping back from the wall, Duncan shoved his pants down to his ankles and then moved forward, back into position. He pulled his shirt up out of the way, took a deep breath and waited.

Duncan’s bottom was already a bright red and Leto didn’t have to touch it to feel the heat radiating from the punished skin. He paused, hesitated, but then decided that holding back wouldn’t help Duncan’s sense of guilt at all.

The first stripe to bare skin wrenched a sharp cry from Duncan’s lips and a white stripe showed up before filling in a slightly darker red. He cried out a bit louder when the second and third stripes, then clenched his hands into tight fists and began to sob as the rest of the asked-for twenty were delivered, the number high enough to cover his entire bare bottom from crest to mid-thigh three times over.

By the time the punishment was finished, Duncan was crying, his body slumped against the wall.

Leto stepped away, giving his friend the time to collect himself. By the time he looked towards Duncan once more, the other man had stood up and was pulling his pants back into place. When their eyes met, Leto held out the belt towards the other man. When Duncan stepped forward to take it, Leto pulled him into a quick, one-armed hug. “I forgive you,” he stated.

Duncan’s body relaxed and he returned the hug, just as quickly, before stepping back and wiping at his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Leto nodded. He stepped back and towards the door, then glanced at his friend. “I need to speak with Jessica. Tell her the truth. Will you come with me?”

“Of course.” Duncan took a deep breath and then wiped the tear stains from his cheeks. He nodded to Leto. “I’m ready as soon as you are.”

** The End **


End file.
